


With an Edge and Charm

by Daiako (Achrya)



Series: Hobbit ABO [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anatomy, Awkward Conversations, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Incest, Intersex, Interspecies Awkwardness, Kinda, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, no beta-we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-14 19:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11215152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Daiako
Summary: Kili just wanted to apologize for sending Bilbo off to deal with the trolls alone. He ends up getting not just an eyeful but an impromptu lesson on hobbit gender, anatomy, and society. He responds in kind. Sort of.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has no doubt been done before. But not by me and so here I am, doing it for myself. Because cultural and biological differences are fun and if we never wrote things that had already been written no one would write at all. I wanted to practice a little before FiKi week, try to get a feel for things? And. Uh. Here we are with this little two part thing, because I couldn't think of something less odd to practice with. Also: Forget timelines, we die like men. 
> 
> Title from 'Building a Mystery'~Sarah McLachlan

 Kili saw Bilbo’s clothes before he saw the hobbit. They were damp with water and hung up on the low hanging branches of a tree a bit away from the stream they’d used to draw water from. The tree was further from the river than Kili would have been comfortable with (Fili would never let him escape having his clothes out of sight without some kind of prank) but Bilbo probably hadn’t had much choice as far as what he could reach went.

Kili glanced at the items curiously as he walked past them, quickly taking in the expected breeches, shirt, fine waistcoat, overcoat with it’s delicate embroidery that Dori so admired, and the small elvish blade and scabbard liberated from the troll hoard, before settling on the unexpected. A long strip of tan cloth that called to mind bandages was carefully hung, hanging low before looping back over the branch.

He eyed the cloth, unsure what to make of it. He thought of home, of the training yard, and the dwarrowdams there who would- but Bilbo wasn’t-

A splash and low annoyed grumbling drew his attention to the river and the matter at hand. Balin had been very clear that he was to help the hobbit if he could, and apologize in a manner befitting a prince, and there would be no dinner until he did. The sooner he got that done the better for his stomach.

A few more steps and he was rounding a tree to step into the clear area that surrounded the stream. And nearly colliding with one very startled looking hobbit. Kili jumped back, squawking in a very un-prince like manner; he’d had no idea the other was so close. How did Bilbo move around so silently?! And with feet that size!

Bilbo jerked back, yelping, then flailed. Kili watched as, in what seemed to be slow motion, the hobbit seemed to become tripped up by his own feet and pitched backwards with a thump. He landed on his backside in a sprawl, hands thrown out and back in an attempt to brace himself. His sodden curls fell over his face with a wet slap and a pained ‘oomph’ fell from his lips.

A laugh began to bubble up in Kili’s chest even as he stepped forward to offer a hand but it stopped, stuck tightly between his ribs. He didn’t mean to look Bilbo over, to glance away from his face to see his body. It just...happened, a natural reflex before he could catch himself and then he was too startled (confused?) to look away.

He knew staring was inappropriate. If his mother could see him, gaping at what lay between the hobbit’s thighs, she would have boxed his ears and had him scrubbing out the pig troughs and forges for the rest of his life. But that was exactly what he was doing, lips parted in surprise.

Bilbo’s skin was pale and freckled and nearly hairless, and so nothing at all like a dwarf. What hair was there started as a line around his navel and lead down to a sparse thatch around his cock. Below that, instead of what Kili would have thought was going to be there, was a...slit, a hint of dusky pink nestled in honey colored curls.

Bilbo made a pained noise as he pushed his hair back from his face to glare up at him. “What in the... _Kili_!”

His name being shrieked so shrilly brought him back to attention. Bilbo’s knees slammed shut as his hands flew up to cover himself. Kili whirled around, face flaming with embarrassment and shame.

“I didn’t see anything!” The noise Bilbo made, equal parts disbelieving laugh and strained squawk, made it clear what exactly he thought of that. “...I did see, but it wasn’t deliberate!”

“Well as long as it wasn’t  _deliberate_.” Bilbo’s tone could only be described as scathing. Kili’s ears heated up, no doubt turning as red as his face.

“Sorry, Mister Baggins! I-I am-I should have-I didn’t realize.” The words came tumbling out of his mouth in a rush, Kili unable to stop them even as he heard Bilbo scrambling around behind him, broken off snatches of ‘highly inappropriate’ and ‘ do dwarrows have no shame’ filling moments Kili's words didn't.

Kili started to turn to protest then, catching a wide eyed startled look, snapped back to stare at a tree that he swore he could feel judging him. “I didn’t mean any offense, believe me! I didn’t know that you-you...”

Kili was aware, of course, that their burglar seemed to strangely sensitive about being seen without his clothes on. He’d just assumed it was a odd hobbit quirk, one of many, not that the hobbit was...different from the rest of them. And why shouldn’t he assume hobbit oddities?  Bilbo was fussy, very particular about just about everything, very...well, soft, to quote the others in the company. Not made for travel or fighting, that much was clear to all of them.

But, in spite of that, he’d kept them from being eaten and had tried his best to get the ponies back when Kili and Fili had, perhaps, pushed him into fixing their mess. Thorin had given them an earful for that and then declared they were ‘grounded’, as if they weren’t fully grown dwarrows and thus too old to be grounded by anyone.

Is what Kili had grumbled to himself while slinking to the other side of the camp to sit with the amused looking Ri brothers while Fili settled between Thorin and Dwalin. Splitting them up had always been Thorin and their mother’s go to for punishment for them and it seemed being of age wasn’t going to change that. Or render it any less effective. Fili had looked properly scolded, head bowed and shoulders drooping, not daring to look up and meet Kili’s eyes. Kili had felt miserable right away, the small amount of space between himself and his brother seeming like so much more when they couldn’t even make eye contact without risking Thorin’s ire.

Kili was willing to admit that maybe, just maybe, they deserved to be in trouble. Not for the ponies, how were they supposed to know *trolls* were roaming about, looking to eat anything and everything? Honestly they were lucky they hadn’t been what the trolls had decided to snatch, in Kili’s opinion...that he’d kept to himself during the dressing down. But, perhaps, trying to have Bilbo steal the ponies back had not been the best idea. Downright dangerous and stupid, to hear Dwalin tell it, thinking that the Hobbit could possibly handle such a thing. They’d made things worse, hadn’t exhibited even the small amount of sense Thorin had hoped they had between the two of them, and so on and so on.

None of which Kili could argue against. In the moment sending Bilbo had seemed like a good idea but Kili and Fili had gotten many a lecture in their lifetimes about acting in the moment and why they shouldn’t do it.

When Bilbo slunk off, muttering about trying to clean himself and his clothes of the troll ‘fluids’ he’d ended up covered in Balin had sent him along a little after to apologize. Kili had been happy to get away from the tense air of the camp, though he would have appreciated not having his next meal hung over his head.

Bilbo went silent for a beat then, voice more strained than it had been even while stalling the trolls, asked: “Didn’t realize what?”

“That you were...ah.” Kili flapped a hand at nothing, searching for what best seemed to work to undo what was happening before it got worse. And by worse he meant ‘before Bilbo tells Thorin that Kili was peeping at him’. He didn’t even want to imagine what kind of trouble that would get him into. Undeserved trouble. “A...hobbitdam?”

Was that right? He wasn’t sure. He’d never seen a dwarrowdam without clothing but he had the same basic knowledge of the difference between them and himself that all young dwarrows got as part of their education and Bilbo didn’t fit anything he’d learned about.

“A what- no! I am not- oh, my clothes are still wet! This is-” Bilbo made a frustrated noise.

Kili shuffled in place for a moment before quickly stripping off his coat and holding it out in the hobbit’s general direction. It was plucked from his fingers a moment later. Kili kept his gaze forward, biting his lower lip anxiously, until a hand on his arm had him looking over at Bilbo sheepishly. The Hobbit looked a bit ridiculous in his coat, the sleeves too long and slipping over his hands as he tried to hold it closed in front of him. The coat pooled around his feet and over the ground. Bilbo was flushed pink all the way up to the tips of his pointed ears; he met Kili’s eyes for a moment then looked away, huffing.

“I am not a hobbitdam. Which is not what we call them, by the way, and it wouldn’t matter much either way. But I’m not and I’ll thank you to remember that.” He tugged on the coat anxiously and rocked back on his feet. Bilbo’s eyes cut to the side, flicked up at Kili, then down to the ground. “I take it you all don’t have dwarrows like me. I’ve looked into the other races, you know, when I was younger and curious and looking for...well. Men and elves don’t seem to have anything like it either. I shouldn’t be surprised, hobbits barely acknowledge it. Very improper I’ll have you know, going about things as I have and that’s without adding in adventures and stealing from dragons.”

Bilbo seemed to be speaking less to him and more to himself, voice becoming softer with each word. He tugged at the coat again, held it tighter around him, and sighed. Kili blinked down at him, uncertain what to say to that. Not that a response seemed to be required or even wanted.

“I wasn’t sure but I suspected, as you all seem to have the same...parts, as it were. Not that I’ve been looking, you understand, but you lot don’t much care about who sees you in just your skin do you? Hard to not see things.” Bilbo’s ears went even pinker and his voice took on a defensive note. “Such things would never be acceptable in the Shire. The things people would say! Why, Marigold Brockhouse was caught having a _private swim_ with her then betrothed when I was still a fauntling and it’s still talked about today, very shameful-”

“Mister Baggins.”

“It must seem very odd to you but for hobbits it’s unseemly to be seen so bare by anyone other than family before entering the marriage bed,” Bilbo continued on as if he hadn’t heard. “But even more so one such as myself, odd as I am. There aren't many like me and those in the Shire have never been fond of oddity. It is lucky my mother was a Took or else who knows how I might have ended up, though some say it was her Tookish nature, and adventuring, that caused the issue. Foolishness, I assure you Master Kili, because if that was the case there would be no other ones at all, would there? No, I think not. Hobbits are a good, sensible, people but at times they can be quite...well. Nevermind that.”

Bilbo sighed again. “It would have been nice to know that there were others like myself, aside from the two or three in the Shire. Though I suppose there could be more who never come forward. ...there aren't, are there? Dwarrows like me?”

Kili blinked then, once he was sure the hobbit was done, shook his head slowly. “I don't think we have any,” he paused, groping for the right thing to say and not cause any further offense.

Bilbo watched him flail for a moment, eyebrow quirking upwards, before taking pity on him. “There’s no one word everyone uses. ...not any polite ones, at least, and I think we can both agree there’s no need to teach you the impolite ones.” The hobbit waved dismissively but his brows were furrowed and for a moment his eyes went dark and stormy. As quickly as his face clouded over it cleared and Bilbo was smiling fondly. “My mother called me a flower.”

“A flower?” Hobbits did seem very concerned with plants of all kinds, Bilbo had spoken at length about his garden back in the Shire, but there was nothing about the hobbit Kili would liken to a flower. Not that he knew much of flowers outside of the ones he’d gathered for Oin on occasion and even those he didn’t know too much about. Not that Oin hadn’t been willing to share his knowledge, Kili had just never been all that attentive during those lessons.

“Because we’re able to bare and sire children, as some flowers can, insofar as flowers do. It is an oddity, even in the Shire.” Bilbo’s voice dropped to a whisper and his gaze once again fell to the ground. He seemed to shrink in on himself, shoulders hunching; the hobbit looked like someone waiting to be struck or yelled at. Kili's skin crawled uneasily at the sight. The wonder he'd felt at hearing that there were hobbits who could carry and sire children faded as quickly as it came, replaced by a heavy feeling in his stomach he didn't want to put a name to. 

A subject change was in order.

“Dwarf omegas can do that as well but-” Kili started, hand jumping up towards his hair and the lone braid, and bead, hidden behind his ear.

“ _What_?”

Kili’s eyes widened at the sharp tone. “What?”

Bilbo leaned forward, into his space, and narrowed his eyes. “You said there aren’t any Dwarrows like me but now you’re saying there are. Is this one of your jokes?”

“Omegas are different.” Very different, at least as far as 'parts' seemed to go, and Kili would know. He was very familiar with his own and could say with absolutely no doubt that he had a cock and nothing else between his thighs, as did all omegas. Or at least Fili, whose body Kili was also familiar with. 

Though not as familiar as he would have liked and this was not the time for those sort of thoughts at all. 

His fingers brushed over the bead, wood he’d carved himself. It wasn't the usual bead, with the onega symbol, but a simple one boasting the image of the raven. Normally the braid would be more visible, near his temple, but Thorin had told both him and Ori it would be better to keep them out of sight during their journey. Not that anyone they encountered should know what the braids and beads meant, save other dwarrows, but Thorin was...Thorin. (Paranoid. Demanding. Stubborn. Fiercely protective to the point of smothering. Half convinced someone would try to steal him away if they knew the truth.)  “...We aren’t supposed to talk about it.”

Omegas were one of the many secrets of his people, something no non-dwarf should have knowledge of. Kili thought it was a silly thing to keep secret, what harm could come from someone like Bilbo knowing of such things?, but no one had ever asked him his opinion on the matter. Still if anyone was to be an exception to the rule it would be Bilbo wouldn’t it? He was helping them take Erebor back, that had to entitle him to some privilege beyond Thorin’s indifference and occasional scorn (and an abnormal amount of it at that, Kili had never seen Thorin take such a blatant dislike to someone without getting to know them at least a little before.). And being covered in troll snot. And having to save them from being eaten, which was no small thing.

If anything they all owed Bilbo a request or two.

Bilbo’s eye twitched. He drew in a deep breath, puffed up and pointed a finger at Kili’s chest, and he could all but feel the rant the hobbit was working himself up to. He held up a hand to hold it off, glancing over his shoulder towards the camp anxiously.

“I did not say I wouldn’t. You explain about your-” Here Kili wiggled his fingers meaningfully. Bilbo stared at him blankly. “And I will tell you how omegas are different.”

“Oh.” Bilbo deflated visibly. “That’s reasonable.”

“I’m often reasonable.”

 Bilbo coughed. Kili choose to ignore it. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *mutters something about book vs movie timelines and ages* *does what I want*

 

They sat by the stream, Bilbo’s clothes laid out on a warm rock to catch the sun and dry, silently agreeing that this was a conversation best had not standing. Kili worried, as he flopped down next to the hobbit practically drowning in his coat, about how long he’d been gone from the camp and how much longer he’d be gone. But he had been told to help Bilbo clean up if he could and as long as he wasn’t with Fili Thorin probably wouldn’t care much about what he was doing. Separation was the punishment, not being unallowed to roam about as he saw fit. 

Bilbo was slow to speak, settling down and digging his toes into the sun  warmed sand without a word. He leaned forward, arms wrapping around his knees and the sleeves of Kili’s coat dragging along the sand, leaving furrows across the surface. 

Kili was not, and likely would never be, known for his patience in most situations. It was true that back home in Ered Luin there had been times where he'd sat in the brush or up in a tree with his bow for hours, just waiting for an animal he could bring home to wander past. He could also stay settled for sparring and weapons training, to allow Fili the occasional futile attempt to tame his hair and make sure the bare minimum of braids and clasps were there. But beyond that? Not so much and especially not when it came to stories. 

This wasn't exactly a fun tale told around the fire, at least he didn't think it was going to be, but it was close enough to make anticipation settle on his stomach. Halflings were a mystery, he'd barely known they existed before Thorin had informed them their burglar was going to be one, and so he’d taken in the bits and pieces Bilbo had shared about his home and people eagerly. Add to that the fact hobbits seemed to have something like omegas, something he’d always been told were unique to dwarrows, and it was all rather intriguing. 

Plus he so rarely got to learn things before his brother did or know something Fili didn't. Fil I had always done things a few years ahead of Kili, got to experience everything first. In some ways it was nice to have a guiding hand in matters and in other ways that hand could feel like it gripped too tight and forced him to follow a set path. But this was all him, no footsteps to follow and match.

And yet the hobbit seemed intent on drawing things out. 

“Master Baggins-”

“Bilbo is fine. After all you’ve seen of me I think we should be on a first name basis, don’t you?” 

Kili ducked his head, heat crawling over his skin, and coughed. Right, that, perhaps now would be a good time to apologize properly.. “I am-”

“Very sorry, yes, I know.” Bilbo’s lips quirked up into a half smile. 

“And I didn't mean-"

“Any harm, I know that too.” The hobbit’s smile grew.

“And for the trolls. We should not have asked you to do something so dangerous.” Kili frowned slightly. “If Thorin knew you were an omega-” of sorts? “The punishment would have been worse. ...so we should not tell him.” 

Bilbo cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “You mean to say you do not let your-omegas was it?-do dangerous things?”  

Kili hummed, rolling that around in his head. It wasn’t as if they were like men, keeping their dwarrowdams and omegas away from battle and or anything of the like. Kili and Fili’s mother was a renowned warrior, better with a mace that but the most seasoned, and had gone on more than one or two orc hunts in her day, though not since she’d birthed Fili. All dwarrows learned to wield a weapon and things in Ered Luin were not in such a state that they could afford to be picky about who risked their lives doing what. Dis was also a fair smith as well and had traveled to try and sell her wares on occasion when Thorin had other responsibilities to attend to. She'd always presented as a male and omegas were never to speak of what they were to the other races; Kili imagined few non-dwarrows had ever seen a dwarrowdam or omega and been aware of it. 

All the same, it was certainly prefered that any who could bare children weren’t lost. There were just so few and so they were fiercely guarded, protected, hoarded and it was not without much consideration that they went to war or left their mountians. Hence Thorin’s insistence that he and Fili hide what they were for the quest, foolish though it seemed to Kili. 

There had even been no small amount of uncertainty about his inclusion in the quest; it was his right as one of Thorin’s heirs, being of the Durin line, and he was not just of age but had gone through his presentation (though it had been late enough that there had been worry about him being an omega at all and that had been...troubling, indeed. Ori, barely into his 70's, had seemingly had his first season at a more reasonable time than Kili had, since he'd been permitted to come.) But he was also an omega of the royal line, the only omega for all intents and purposes, and Thorin and Dis had been hesitant. 

Even Fili had been unsure, only relenting when Kili had made it very plain he would not sit idle while his brother went off without him and would follow, one way or another. They had never been separated before, not for more than a night or two, and Kili was not about to tolerate such a thing now. 

“We are not men.” Is what he settled on. 

Bilbo made a considering noise then nodded once before leaning back some. “Now, give me a moment. I've never had to explain these things to another, surrounded as I was by hobbits who were all too aware of my...uniqueness, and I want to get it just right. I have no doubt you’ll be running off to tell your brother as soon as you’re no longer grounded and I won’t have you telling him things that aren’t true.” 

Kili’s offended huff was met with a quiet laugh then, face settling into something more serious, the hobbit turned to face him fully.

“When a hobbit is born they are, usually, a male or a female. From what I understand men and elves are the same, two genders, males sire and females carry. There are some who are one thing but identify as another but that is wholly different subject and I’m afraid the Shire isn’t so terribly kind to them either. ” Bilbo drug his finger along the ground to make two circles, side by side but not quite touching. “Sometimes in hobbits a fauntling will be born who is both, for lack of a better descriptor. I don’t particularly feel like ‘both’ but. Well. It isn’t something that occurs often, maybe a half dozen a generation for all of the Shire, at the most. There were only two others near my age, both to the east of Hobbiton. I’ve never met them personally though there was some correspondence in my youth, before I settled a bit.”

A third circle was drawn, started in the space between the first two and then overlapping with both. “There is no name for it that I would repeat to you and in spite of my best efforts I could find little by way of recorded history and even less when I tried to find others willing to speak of it. It is considered an...unnatural affliction and no one knows why it occurs, though there is certainly no end of talk and speculation. Illness in the mother, eating the wrong foods, punishment from our maker, and everything in between.

“The most common rumor in my case, I believe, is my mother’s proximity to wizard magic when she was young must have warped me before birth. Rubbish.” Bilbo’s rolled his eyes, expression slipping into something bordering on scornful. “Between her adventures and my magic I have had to try very hard indeed to be a good respectable hobbit accepted by my neighbors. ...not that this little journey is going to be helping my reputation any, mind you, but. Here we are.”  

Kili frowned hard, troubled by what he was hearing. “Hobbits believe the ability to sire and carry is a punishment?”

That didn’t make any sense to him. There had been very few children born in the years his people had been in Ered Luin, even by dwarrow standards, and of those born there were many, too many, who didn’t make it out of their first few decades. Life was hard, food was scarce, and sickness was common; Kili had heard the story of how he’d been born too early, too small, too sickly and death had seemed like a forgone conclusion many times. He had been lucky, Thorin and his father had worked themselves to sickness to be able to provide medicine for him, and a great many others weren’t. 

Of those children born since the fall of Erebor the number who were dams or omegas was in the single digits (and one was Nori, who scarcely counted at all for reasons other than being born on the road to the Blue Mountains.) All children were considered to be a gift, a treasure few would ever have to their name, valued above all else, but dams and omegas even more so. It was seen as a blessing, a mark of good fortune for the family at the very least, a source of pride. To think it a punishment, or the result of something gone wrong…

But then hobbits didn’t seem to lack for children. Traveling through the Shire to Hobbiton had been almost surreal in how different it was. Green, thriving, crammed full of halflings of all ages. Children had run around all over, trailing after them on the roads with wide curious eyes before being tugged back behind their mother’s skirts, and there had been so many of them. Perhaps enough to be able to turn up their noses and declare some made to punish or bring shame? 

Kili couldn’t imagine such a thing. 

Hobbits were strange creatures. 

Bilbo shrugged. “It isn’t typical and hobbits are not given to accepting what isn’t typical. I can understand it, when I’m in a more charitable mood which isn’t as often as it should be, how it must be quite a shock to welcome a babe but find that it’s not one or the other, but too much of both and that it will never be quite normal or respectable. And it limits the potential for fauntlings, as there aren’t many who wish to marry one like me let alone have children. It’s a dead end, which is a bit funny when you think about it isn’t it?”

“I think I’m missing the humor.” 

“Hmm, yes, that’s. Yes.” Bilbo laughed but it sounded hollow and forced. “It is different for dwarrows, clearly. And yet you were surprised by me.” 

“Ah.” Kili cleared his throat as heat rushed up his cheeks again. “Omegas, the ones who can sire and bare, are not made as you are. On the outside we look the same as any other dwarf, and not at all like a dwarrowdam.” 

Bilbo tilted his head to the side, a curious expression on his face. “We?” 

“We what?” 

“You said we.” Bilbo’s whole face changed and it was as if he was seeing Kili for the first time. But less openly frustrated as the actual first time they’d met. “You count yourselves among the omegas.” 

Kili blinked once, twice, then smiled sheepishly. Thorin often said he said far too much when he spoke, and not strictly in the sense of not being able to shut his mouth as often as those around him would like. There was, perhaps, a not small amount of truth to that claim. He chuckled as he turned his head and reached for his hair again, imagining just how upset his uncle could be if he were to witness this conversation and what he was about to do. 

“ _ If you must wear the carrier braid at least have the decency to allow Fili to place it out of sight.” Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke, the surest sign that he was annoyed with him. “And show no one.”  _

“Omegas are common in my family, and that means me as well. This is the carrier braid. Normally I wear a bead with this-” He sketched a hasty Ω into the sand, pausing to let Bilbo inspect it. “On it. It isn’t one of our words-”

“Or you wouldn’t be telling me, I’m sure.” Bilbo said dryly. 

Kili smiled toothily, unable to deny the truth to Bilbo’s words, and tucked his braid back into his hair clasp, hidden away. “But it’s the word we’ve always used. I don’t know why.” 

There had probably been a lesson about it that, at the time, he’d been too young and uncomfortable with all the talk to really pay proper attention. Even now thinking back on Balin’s toneless voice droning on and on about parts and seasons and ‘intercourse’ made his skin itch. Those had been dark and awkward times, not at all aided by Fili’s presence. Or, really, it had been less about Fili specifically and now about Kili’s sudden eye opening awareness of his brother. 

Awkward times indeed. 

“You really don’t keep your omegas, and dwarrowdams I’d assume, tucked away as men do then.” Bilbo said thoughtfully. “As you are on this journey, with its risk of laceration and incineration, and are an omega. You could have just said that plainly.” 

“I thought I did.” He said absently, eyes drifting from his drawing to Bilbo’s. “It wouldn’t have been right if I didn’t come. I’m old enough and have had my first season-” 

“First season?” 

Kili poked at his sketch. “It’s when we show if we or an omega or just a plain dwarf. I’ve had mine and after the first they can be controlled with certain herbs.” 

But the first. The first was impossible to predict and came on stronger than any other would. 

It hadn’t been a fun affair to say the least of the matter, for Fili or himself when their times had come. Fili had fallen into a sickly state, with fever and chills, complained of cramps the entire time, and had been distressed for reasons he wouldn’t share. Kili knew now, having gone through it himself, that the distress had been one borne of need, an all consuming need that burned under the skin and left one hard and wet. Kili had skipped the fever but had gained an inability to keep anything down and overwhelming fatigue in it’s place. 

But it could have been worse. Kili had heard some omegas bled along with everything else, something he was glad to have avoided. At the time, however, he was sure he would have dealt with anything because he’d been just past seventy, old enough that the assumption that he would be an omega like his brother had begun to be questioned. He’d endured it well enough in front of others, smiled when Fili told him he’d be lucky to avoid the ‘seasons’, but had sat up many a night worrying. 

If he weren’t an omega then Fili would never be more than his brother. One of them would need to have children, to continue the line of succession. Fili would never carry and if Kili hadn’t been able to then one of them would have had to find one who could. But that wasn’t the case, thankfully, which simplified matters some. 

Not nearly enough, but it wasn’t the time to moon over things like that.  

A silence followed then, with a feigned casualness that Kili was actually a bit impressed by, Bilbo asked. “And Thorin is your uncle, correct? And this is common in your family line? Purely for the sake of curiosity, is he also-”

“Kings do not bare.” The response was automatic, learned alongside Fili in their lessons, branded into his brain the day his brother’s carrier braids, barely in his hair a year, had been replaced with the ones declaring him heir. 

Besides that he didn’t know if Thorin was or wasn’t an omega. He was king, there was nothing else to know beyond that and it was not something Kili was to ask. 

Bilbo had an easily read face and so the bit of annoyance was plain on his soft features. Even if it hadn’t been Kili would have heard it in the tartness of his voice. “Of course they don’t.” Kili shot the hobbit a look but there was only a handwave by way of response. “It’s nothing. I think my clothes ought to be dry by now, don’t you.” 

He didn’t entirely believe that but he let it lie, nodding his agreement instead. He kept his silence as Bilbo walked off to gather his clothing and dress, leaving him to his thoughts of the oddness of Hobbits and how they treated their own. To think Bilbo was considered undesirable and akin to a punishment to his parents among other Hobbits? While the hobbit wasn’t exactly to Kili’s taste, round and soft, no hair upon his face and so much on his feet, more of a scholarly and homebound nature than anything else, he wouldn’t deem him wholly without charm. To the right dwarf he’d be a catch. 

If he was a dwarf.

Or, at least, entitled to the same treatment they showed their omegas. 

“I have an idea.” He announced when Bilbo returned. The hobbit cringed. 

“I refuse.” 

“You haven’t even heard it yet.” 

“And yet I refuse all the same.” Bilbo said without so much as hesitating. 

\---

In the end Bilbo relented, though if it was because he was moved by Kili’s impassioned insistence that doing so would afford him some better treatment from the rest of the company or to get him to stop talking it was hard to say. Equal parts of both seemed likely but the precise reason was less important than the agreement itself. And so, while Bilbo clucked and fretted about how very badly this might turn out, Kili wove a braid into soft honey colored curls as best he could. 

Fili would have done a better job, used to Kili’s unusual hair that was so similar to Bilbo’s own. Plenty of it but soft, less coarse than dwarrows usually had, not as willing to maintain it’s shape. (Kili wasn’t hopeless at braiding, merely at doing his own hair. He managed Fili’s quite well.) It was only a strip of fabric offered by the Hobbit and wrapped around the bottom fourth of the braid that kept it in place at all. He placed it near Bilbo’s temple, where it would be most obvious. 

Judging by the looks they got when they returned to camp, most of them initially curious and then focused, confused, and displeased in turn. Dwalin and Balin in particular looked beyond sour as their eyes zeroed in on Bilbo and then focused on Kili with something like accusation in them. Gandalf sat back on the rock he was one, puffing at his pipe and humming softly. 

Fili looked amused, as he often did when Kili was on his way to getting into trouble without his aid. And then fondly exasperated, shaking his head slightly, saying much without a word. Kili almost smiled at him, always pleased to be the center of his brother’s attention (selfish though that was) but Thorin was approaching them, expression black with some emotion Kili was half afraid to put a name to. 

Maybe this had been a bad idea. 

Nothing to do for it now but to straighten up and square his shoulders, waiting for his uncle’s judgement. 

Thorin reached out and nearly touched the not exactly expertly done plait then stopped, visibly starting as he caught himself. His hand curled into a fist and dropped to his side. 

“Did Kili explain what this means?” There was an warning edge to his voice and Kili knew there wasn’t, strictly speaking, a right answer. Either Kili hadn’t explained and Bilbo was wearing a braid he had no business wearing and know nothing of or Kili had explained and broken their most fundamental of rules, given away secrets. 

Biblo shuffled his feet anxiously then, eyes darting over to Kili, nodded haltingly. “He did.” 

The number of dark looks thrown Kili’s way was slightly alarming but Thorin didn’t join in. His entire focus was on the Hobbit, gaze intent and brows knitted together as he looked Bilbo over. If Kili hadn’t known better he would have thought his uncle was trying to see into Bilbo, to read his very mind or soul. 

“And, knowing what you do, you would wear this?” 

Bilbo made a noise, shoulders hunching just a little in the face of Thorin’s icy tone. Kili had to give credit where credit is due, many a dwarf had wilted in the face of such. Their burglar had more iron in his spine than one would assume. 

“Well. I am not sure it is right, as I am not a dwarf, but it seems that hobbits are not so different in. Some respects.” Bilbo's ears went pink at the tips. “And Kili was insistent that your, ah, traditions dictate that. Such a thing should be known.”   

“And,” Kili added but nearly wished he hadn’t when Thorin’s focus returned to him. “That is. Bilbo is part of the company and is helping us with the dragon, so he’s a bit of an honorary dwarf, I would think. And he is an omega-” 

Thorin’s lips thinned into a scowl that made Kili forget his words. He had never had such a look aimed at him, not even when he’d nearly burnt down his uncle’s forge. With himself and Fili still inside. Thorin had looked like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug them or kill them but this. This seemed to be leaning strongly towards kill. Or at least see him grounded from Fili’s company for the duration of the journey, which might be worse than dying. 

And then Thorin turned away. “Fili, fix your brother’s attempt at braiding, it is shameful. And right Kili’s as well.” 

Kili was so relieved he didn’t even bother swatting Fili’s away when his brother walked over and tugged on his hair. They would no doubt have words later but for now, at least, it seemed he was avoiding more punishment. 

The day wore on much the same as they usually did, if one ignored Balin huffing about ‘Imagine, the halfling (Bilbo had scowled fiercely and nearly jerked away from Fili and lost a bit of hair in the process) omega and us not knowing. The wizard might have told us, there is protocol to follow!’, and Thorin’s frequent looks in their direction. 

Kili was, as Fili’s fingers ran through his hair to work out the snarls and tangles, willing to chalk it all up as a victory.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was to be just two parts, with talking and lowkey thilbo (it's...there. If you squint) and not at all lowkey Kili pining for Fili annnnnd now I think I have further ideas for things that could come? Maybe.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Tell Me That You've Still Got the Flame](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11563818) by [Daiako (Achrya)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Daiako)




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